Chapter Text
The car pulls through the black iron gates, disturbing the gravel road leading up to the countryside mansion. As Ms. Pruess said, the structure looks like something out of the Rococo era, with some modern amenities here and there like the electronic gate and the intercom system that let him in. It’s a bit extravagant for Phil’s taste, but he hears Mr. Hertwick has a fascination with it. His career as a renowned history professor aside, Hertwick has spent the majority of his life dedicated to restoring this old mansion and modernizing it while still keeping the classic feel. It’s the very hobby that drove his wife to divorce him; his obsession too much for her to handle. The Renaissance, Rococo and Baroque, basically anything Victorian era he was well studied in, and it showed.
Phil parks just in front of the house, exiting the car and making his way up the marble steps; a set of elaborate double doors opening and a butler welcoming him inside. “Mr. Hertwick will be with you shortly. He’s currently wrapping up a business call.” Phil tells the man that it’s no trouble; stuffing his hands into his pockets and admiring the grand entrance hall. The ceiling raises up high and is accented with honey-gold curtains draping down to the floor. In between the curtains are small white statues, one of a lady with a floral crown and the other a bard of sorts, playing a lira.
“Stryker, I presume?” Phil turns to see a man in his late 50’s walking towards him, hands clasped together and a confident grin on his face. His sweater vest hugs his robust figure tightly and his receding hair is hidden poorly under a tweed hat.
“Yes, and you must be Mr. Hertwick.” Phil offers his hand and they shake, Mr. Hertwick gesturing for him to follow his lead. They exchange small talk about the drive here, Phil telling him that it wasn’t hard at all to find and that the view of the country is marvelous. He asks lots of questions about the surrounding area, whether or not the other homes sparsely scattered about were as grand as this one.
“Haha, I’m afraid not!” Hertwick boasts, “I’ve put a lot of time and effort into this fine property; as I well told you over the phone.”
The former Mrs. Hertwick said the same. It’s amazing how much money you have to blow away when you work for an Ivy League University and you’re also the proud owner of multiple off-shore oil rigs on the side. “It’s exactly the reason why I had to come see this place.” Phil smiles, “It’s even better than you described.”
Mr. Hertwick pushes open a small door at the end of the hallway, revealing a library with floor to ceiling shelves of hardbound books, a large fainting settee in the middle. He heads straight for a table beside the sofa, opening a decanter and pouring both of them a drink. “I must say, I was surprised to find such a young man showing interest in a piece of fine art. I didn’t think your generation was into such things; too busy with your iPhones and things.”
“Haha, well I can keep up with the times and still appreciate the classics.” A lie, but only a small fib. Phil actually has zero interest in whatever piece of art Hertwick has to offer him. Especially now, Hertwick stopping in front of a portrait he assumes is the piece in question for him to buy. A bored looking man clad in noble-looking garments stares straight ahead, one hand leaning on a fashionable cane and the other resting on the head of a hunting dog. It’s positively dull. “This is gorgeous!”
“Yes, it is.” Hertwick beams before settling back down. “But I’m actually having an artist commissioned to have my own portrait painted and I want to hang it in this very spot, so this one will have to go.”
“I see.” Phil nods, eyes taking in the rest of the room, pretending to ponder. This was the very study that Ms. Pruess told him about. She had told him about the painting in this room being available to buy and to make arrangements with Mr. Hertwick in order to ‘inspect the art in person’, when really it was the room that needed inspecting. There was something here; hidden. Pruess insisted upon it, because she had been allowed everywhere else in the house except here, unless her husband at the time was present. It wasn’t just a matter of having some ‘man cave’ to call his own or anything like that. He protected this place. It was quite interesting, so instead of bribing the help or something boring like that, Phil took the liberty to look around himself. “Now, what was the price range for the painting again?”
Hertwick names off a price and Phil almost spits out his scotch. He wouldn’t pay half that for this piece of crap. “That’s a very modest price.”
“I’d like to get it sold within a few weeks so it’s out of the way by the time the artist is here.” Hertwick sets his empty glass down on the table, turning back to Phil. “So, are you interested?”
“I’m very interested, but I’m afraid I don’t have the final say; the misses does.” He shrugs.
“Ah, I understand.” His response is laced with a hint of bitterness.
“I could call her up?” Phil suggests, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. “See if I can’t persuade her now instead of having to come back again.”
Hertwick agrees that that sounds like a fine idea and Phil dials. “Mr. Summers,” Ms. Pruess answers, “Have you done it?”
“Hello, sweetie.” Phil says with a charming lit, “I’m at that small chateau that has the painting I was telling you about? I’m looking at it right now.”
Ms. Pruess doesn’t miss a beat. “Alright, check out one of the bookcases on the opposite wall. One of the times I was in there I went to look at the books on that shelf and he jumped right up to stop me.”
Phil casually turns around, mindlessly walking towards the shelf in question. “Yes, I think it’s from the ladder part of the 18th century.” He rambles, “Broad strokes, defining colors…” He continues to describe the painting to his ‘wife’, looking back at the painting here and there as he slowly paces in front of the bookshelf. He runs a finger across the bindings of the books, pretending to fiddle absentmindedly as he talks while carefully watching Hertwick in the corner of his eye. “It’s a fine piece, Susan. I think it’d go great just over our mantle.” He takes a few steps towards the next bookshelf and he sees Hertwick begin to move a little closer, hand raising once before quickly putting it down. Nerves?
Phil’s fingers graze across the books at his eyelevel, mimicking reading the titles as he listens to the phone. “It must be in one of the books there. One of the bigger encyclopedias maybe?” Pruess tells him.
Phil doesn’t get a chance to check, Hertwick swooping in and blocking a section of books at the end of the row. Phil gives him a small smile, pointing to his phone and rolling his eyes. “Yes, I suppose I can come back again if you really can’t decide.”
Pruess sighs. “Damn it, alright.”
“Love you, too. See you when I get home.” Phil hangs up and turns to Hertwick. “It looks like I’ll need to charm her into the idea. It’d be a great help if I could take a picture to show her.”
“Go ahead.” Hertwick lets Phil take a picture with his phone before Phil stuffs it away again, taking mental note of where the nearest window is and where he could possibly access it from the outside. Once he’s set he thanks Hertwick for his time and assures him that he’ll convince his wife of the sale and be back in no time. “I’ll look forward to making a deal.”
Phil is once again ushered through the mansion and to the front door, hopping down the step to his awaiting car. Once well down the road he rings Ms. Pruess again. “He’s definitely protective of that particular shelf; and I doubt it’s over some rare books.”
“The necklace must be in one of those books.” Pruess curses.
“Don’t worry,” Phil chuckles, “I’ll head back there tonight and get you your necklace back before you know it.”
“I hope so.” Pruess breathes, “Your reputation is on the line.”
Phil smiles to himself. “I haven’t tarnished it yet.”